The Districts
by EYESviolet
Summary: A series of poems composed from the view of each of the Districts - seeing from their point of view, their lifestyle, their home. Go head and read it. You may like it! Review, please! Thankies.
1. District One

**Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins, and do not claim ownership over Hunger Games, Catching Fire, or the following material.**

**Note: In a sudden spurt of inspiration, I have decided to make a series of twelve poems, each representing a District, and what it truly means to belong to them. I'll be going in order. I will love you forever if you read&review! Thankies! **** -E.v.**

Royalty

Like on the very sun

The people of the Capitol rely

Behind our beautiful façade

Swords clash

Shields rattle

Knives fly

We are warriors

Screaming, rocketing, charging

Into the unknown

Fearlessly

From the womb

We learn to thunder

To whisper

To connive and deceive

We learn to act

To ally

To kill and maim

We all hide behind stone masks

Neither as true

As the other believes

Cowardice

We know

Comes with failure and death

Bravery

We know

Comes with glory and riches

We must strive

We must fight

For how else

Do we please the Capitol

If not with our

Shiny trinkets

Glimmering jewels

Beautiful children?

Each the next

Generation

We thrash, and snap, and bite

To be our own

To know ourselves

While we grow

We only know pain

We must avoid pain

And so we fight

We do not understand

Ourselves

Our world

Our fight

However

I will not differ

I will be the same

Otherwise

I will die

And within my home

Death is never acceptable.

Relinquish is never acceptable.

Failure is never acceptable.

Even after we live

Simple _victory _is never acceptable enough.

So I stand

Head high

As I choose the arena

The fate

The fight

The challenge

And, when my time comes

If it must

I choose the death.


	2. District Two

**Disclaimer: Not in any way am I affiliated with Suzanne Collins or the Hunger Games series.**

**Note: Thank you again for the reviews for **_**Royalty**_**! Here's District Two, the lovely tributes of medicine, whom we shall now applaud. **** Read and review, my faithfuls(is that a word?)! Thankies, as always. –E.v. **

Observer

Expectations

We cannot fulfill

This

Is what awaits

.

Do we fear?

Fear this arena

Of gore

Of death and doom?

We would be

Foolish

Presumptuous

Dead

Not to

.

However

We are told

We do not

We are told

We are fearless

We are told

We are victors

We are told

We are Careers

We are told

We live

To die

We are told

We must always

Without question

Step aside

For our one-uppers

District One

Their hateful smiles

.

How

To be proud

To be honest

To be best

When so close

To our own

Untouchable victory?

So close

Yet

Always so far

.

The Capitol

They demand

Wordlessly, yes

That we are

As our number suggests

Second best

.

We are loved

Like that one child

Between both

The oldest and youngest

"Middle"

They call it

In some places

.

Staring

Unknowingly

At printed labels

Plastic canisters

.

What do we

Really

Truly

Actually know?

That we are always

Less than the best?

Like the

Second-place racer

Out-of-breath

Having worked so hard

Yet

They are…

Unrecognized

.

This

I tell you

We do know

.

We know

Our place

Our fights

Our allies

Better than the rest

.

Because

Who best to observe

Than the one

Never observed?


	3. District Three

**Disclaimer: Nope, Hunger Games still belongs to Suzanne Collins. Surprise, surprise!**

**Note: This one is very different than what I imagined it as, although I'm rather pleased with the outcome. Please give a round of polite applause for the cunning District Three, who provided the inspiration for this poem. Thankies, as always, and I implore you to review. **** -E.v.**

Breathe in

Breathe out

.

Repetition

Repetition

Repetition

.

All is a haze

All is calm

.

This

.

This is your advantage

.

Out there

Amidst the gore

Amidst the blood

The screams

The brawls

You are…

Calm

.

As a child

You learn rhythm

Patience

.

What else to learn

When constantly

Creating

Creating

Creating

.

This singularity

Singularity

Betters you

This is the stem

The stem

Of all

Victor's victories

.

You

Are the one

Who can stare

Stare

Into another's face

You

Are the one

Who can lift

Lift

That steely weapon

You

Are the one

Who can kill

Kill

Your enemy's light

.

Without a flinch

.

Because all is calm

Serene

Peaceful

In your mind's abode

.

Always

.

In the contrasting grayness

Of our ash-breathed home

We believe

The sky is beautiful

.

Merely because

All else is smothered

In smoke

Smoke

In soot

Soot

In grease

Grease

.

We live in

A rank world

.

And so

We turn our

Black eyes

To the

Unwavering sky

.

Ignorance is

Not bliss

Ignorance

Is survival

.

Because truly

If we looked at

What lay

Around us

.

We would cry

We would roil

We would weep

And wail

And close our eyes

.

And in these

Cynical Games

You must always

.

Keep your eyes open

.

For

If you don't

You will

.

Bleed! Flee! Die!

.

They ask us

_Who do you think you are_

_Laying all to waste_

_Staring elsewhere_

_Intently_

_Ignoring all_

_But your minds_

_In peace of home_

.

And we answer

_We are victors_

_Victors_

_My foolish friend_

.

Victors

Who watch the skies

Because

Because

Always

Without question

Does the final lightning

Strike from above


End file.
